


Inhale: Prequel

by TanukiKyle



Series: Inhale [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanukiKyle/pseuds/TanukiKyle





	1. The Beginning

Minato sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks as he looked at the newest demand – no sorry, request, from the Uchiha royals. His family ran back generations. They were one of the most respected clans in the Leaf. More importantly, they held a gem of land – A large mansion far at the deep edges of the city, which bordered onto the forest. It was the only such house to do so – any others that had tried never seemed to go well, which just fuelled rumors and suspicion about the forest, dark magic, deep secrets.

Until a few months ago, Minato would have smiled indulgently. There was something special about the forest, no doubt about that – his family had worked with it for generations, respecting it and the bounty it gave them. But magic? Surely not. Perhaps there were beasts with chakra in there – but that was hardly unusual – half the clans in Konoha were bound to beasts in some way or another.

Of course, a few months ago he hadn't met Kushina. He hadn't learned the history of the forest. Hadn't known the joy of the forest as an insider. A few months ago felt like another lifetime now. He tugged at the collar of his shirt awkwardly, almost uncomfortable now in clothing after having spend so much time out of it. He half-heartedly scrawled a reply on a jotting pad, reminding himself to finish it later, and looked out the window. The sun was cresting the horizon, only the tiniest hints of daylight left, and they were being swept away by the enthusiastic tendrils of twilight that swept across the sky. His harassed, tired demeanor was swept away, and he stood up with a blinding grin. Struggling out of his shirt as he did so, he ran out the cottage, stripping enthusiastically. If he'd had any neighbours it would have been the strangest sight.

But then, he didn't did he? Except for the forest, and the forest was the reason he was stripping.

He was completely naked, reaching for the fundoshi woven of vines and leaves, lined with soft downy fur (he didn't want painful…painful… – well, you get the idea!), that he kept in a hollowed tree-stump, free from any man-made taint, when an appraising chuckle came from the forest. He flushed immediately, first his face then spreading to his shoulders in a tinge of embarrassed red as he recognised the dulcet tones of Kushina.

"A little slow tonight, Minato?"

There was a momentary pause, then he grabbed for the fundoshi, moving like lightning – only Kushina was faster. She snatched it first, gave a particularly mischevious grin and vanished into the trees. Minato groaned, looked around for anything to cover himself and, seeing nothing suitable, cursed the vixen playfully and ran into the forest. His feet were tough now, even if he didn't coat them with chakra, worn into callused pads – not the natural pads that Kushina carried over from her fox form, but useful non the less. His hands he couldn't keep that way though – whilst he could hide his feet in shoes or socks, he couldn't wear gloves constantly without somebody noticing something was up, so he had to coat them lightly if they were leaping through trees.

He saw a flash of red and grinned, flickering out of view with a burst of yellow chakra. Appearing before his target, he tackled her, nipping at an extended ear. She yelped and chuckled, nose to nose with her mate.

Not that the silly man knew it yet – not properly at least, she knew he knew he loved her, but he was insecure, uncertain. All humans were though, even those who ran with the blessings in their veins. She leaned upwards further, kissing him thoroughly. She felt him twitch down below and then the fiery heat as he blushed. She grinned, pressing upwards, the hard curves of her hips and the soft mounds of her breasts creating delicious contrast across his skin. And then Minato was less worried about the lack of fundoshi and more about removing the similairly minimalist attire that Kushina was wearing.

Afterwards, still tasting her in his mouth and feeling the soft heaves of her breath as they ghosted across his back as they napped in the moonlit glade, he pressed his face to her hair, scenting forest and fire and love and with a flush of embarrassment himself, and then wondered if he should tell her, and wondered if he could afford not to.

She stirred, his love, his eternal magical beautiful love, and looked up at him, eyes hazy with contentment and adoration and all those things he couldn't name but loved about her anyway.

He closed his eyes, buried his face in her neck, and slept.

He could tell her tomorrow.

Kushina waited till his breaths evened out. Her hands slid to her warm abdomen. She could feel the pulse of life in it, feel her cubs. Two sparks, one the familiar dark green of the forest – but the other – the other was a neon blue that Kushina had only seen once before, in Minato's eyes.

She scented deeply, nostrils flaring and taking in Minato's scent – full of forest, of speed and that crackling electricity he liked to use, only the barest hints now of metal and ink and the trappings of the human world. She could smell herself too, feminine musk mixing with the sharp scent of his sweat. She wondered if she should wake him, up tell him, and wondered if she could afford not to.

He stirred slightly in his sleep, his breath ghosting across her neck, her eternal, boundary-defying love, who had risked everything for her and would forever. She took in his sight, his smell and smiled.

Closing her eyes she snuggled closer, materialising her tails and spreading them over herself and her mate in a warm, magical blanket.

She could tell him tomorrow.


	2. Kushina: The End

The sun crests over the horizon.

It's a beautiful morning in the outskirts of the town. The traders yell prices, shout deals and offers, and the citizens shake their heads but they do it with a smile.

Today is a good day, they can feel it.

Minato wakes with a yawn, pressing a kiss to the fox curled next to him. It's a beautiful morning.

Kushina awakes, stretching the kinks out of her animal form after a night spent otherwise. It's a beautiful morning.

And it stays that way until Kushina walks back to the house with Minato and straight into a horrible, reeking, permeating smell of fire.

His face pales. White is the wrong word. White brings to mind clean snow, clouds that lazily trail across the sky.

His face is pain. Kushina has never associated Pain as a colour before, but she does now. She does now. He turns to her and says run.

She frowns. Surely he needs her now more than ever?

And then she sees the shapes of humans in the smog and understands.

They see them. Yell.

Tears drip down Minato's face as he forms a ball of spinning wind.

They look at each other one last time, and Kushina's crystal tears fall too.

There is so much left unsaid.

She flees to the forest. Not for herself, not even for the pleading expression on her mate's face.

But for the secret she never voiced, for the children in her belly.

And as she hears the sounds of battle and pain on the wind she raises her head and howls her pain, her frustration and her love to the sky.


	4. Minato: The End

The sun crests over the horizon.

It's a beautiful morning in the outskirts of the town. The traders yell prices, shout deals and offers, and the citizens shake their heads but they do it with a smile.

Today is a good day, they can feel it.

Minato wakes with a yawn, pressing a kiss to the fox curled next to him. It's a beautiful morning.

Kushina awakes, stretching the kinks out of her animal form after a night spent otherwise. It's a beautiful morning.

And it stays that way until Kushina walks back to the house with Minato and straight into a horrible, reeking, permeating smell of fire.

And he pales, oh god he pales. He knows this smell. It's the smell that his father brought back when he told Minato his mother wasn't coming home anymore. It's the smell, he suddenly realises, that he brings with him when he comes from the palace.

It's the smell of death, of intolerance, of war – of Uchiha.

And when the shouts come through the smog of his house, of his childhood his life, he turns to the one thing he has left.

"Run!"

He wishes he could go with her. Usually he would, he would run with her and embrace it because that's all he ever wanted.

There's so much left unsaid.

He stays for the secret he never voiced, the seal he never completed.

The seal that will keep the forest safe forever.

And as he pushes the Rasengan at the knights, he's painting the seal on his ground with his blood.

And he turns his head to the stars and howls in love and pain and loss because he can almost see the shinigami coming for him as he bleeds out on the ground.


End file.
